


Hetalia Spankings!

by HylianHeroine2



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Corporal Punishment, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HylianHeroine2/pseuds/HylianHeroine2
Summary: Hetalia characters just can't help but be f***ing naughty can they?Old requests from my old account. New ones will be added when I can find the right files!If you have a request, feel free to message me!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Germany and S. Italy

**Author's Note:**

> Moved from my Fanfiction account. Forewarning, spelling errors and grammar mistakes may be present. These do have old requests that may have trigger warnings. Please let me know if I missed any.  
> *EDIT* Re-writes are in progress. It's slow going but they will happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-write from the last one. If you wish to read the old one. (I dunno why you would, but if you wanna) It's still up on my fanfiction account.

Story One: Germany and S. Italy

The alarm wasn’t what woke him up, it was more of Italy curled up next to him, his feet freezing as usual. Germany was well used to it by now, He knew from their time as the Axis Powers, that Italy has abandonment issues, was afraid that he and Japan would leave him in the middle of the night.

Whatever made him feel better. Germany supposed. He was just glad that no one else decided to try and share his bed late at night. He and the other World Powers got along quite well now, World Wars One and Two over for quite some time, as a matter of fact, they liked to get together nowadays and just sit and talk.

It was fun to see the petty squabbles that usually turned into bouts of laughter, a few harmless punches to the shoulder, and some drinks to top the night off. 

Well, if there was one person who still didn’t like it, it was Italy’s brother, South Italy. Or Romano, as he and Spain would call him to prevent any mix-up between him and his brother. 

Though, how anyone could mix the two up would be astonishing. 

The older Italian man would nothing like him brother…well, probably in the smarts department. Though Italy could at least own up to his issues on the metal capacity side, Romano did everything to prove he was “smarter, faster, and harder” than his little brother.

Geeze, even Prussia didn’t do this kind of crap with him, and Prussia could be…well, Prussia. 

The last time Romano tried to prove his worth as a nation and a man, he had challenged Germany to a Grenade launching contest. Rules were simple, pull the pin and throw more grenades than your opponent. They had a huge field where people would get hurt.

Germany went first, he threw over 30 in 5 minutes. Not bad after not having thrown any for some years. Romano went next, the poor child stuck his first one in his face, pulled the pin, and threw the damn pin. 

It was only seconds after Germany yanked the grenade from his face did it explode in midair, sending shrapnel raining down on them. He covered Romano with his body and the little shit had the gall to be upset, say he made him throw the challenge and throw a rather pitiful punch to the arm that hurt more than it should of due to said shrapnel.

It took Italy dragging him away to prevent him from strangling the other man. The least he could do was be a little more grateful for preventing a major face fuck up. Sure, they couldn’t die as they were Nations, but it wouldn’t be pretty throughout healing. 

He had approaching Spain more than once, begging him, to rein the hard-headed Southern Italian in and was always met with the same response.

“Oh, Romano is just playing! He is too precious for this world, a little cinnamon roll!”

Cinnamon roll his left foot. If Romano was a cinnamon roll then Germany would a little girl in pigtails. 

And he wasn’t.

But, back to the morning. Again, normally, waking up next to Italy wasn’t unusual anymore, but waking up next to him drunk as a skunk wasn’t normal. Germany sat up and looked over after getting a heavy whiff of wine and vomit.

Italy never got so wasted that he threw up, he took his time to drink and never went over his limits in that regard. He brushed the dark hair from Italy’s face, dried but of bile still on his lip.

He winced as he looked over the side of the bed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he saw Italy had the forethought to bring in a bucket. He missed a couple of times, but most got in.

Good, not too big of a clean-up. He shoved his hands under Italy and lifted him quickly. Golden brown eyes cracked open.

“Vee, Germany?”

“Don’t worry Italy, I’m going to get you cleaned up in the bath.” He replied. “Where did you go last night to get so drunk?”

“Over to Lovino’s, he and big brother Spain threw a party, but Spain got distracted and Lovi took me down to his secret wine cellar.”

“Oh? Did you tell him you weren’t interested in getting wasted?” He asked as he walked to the bathroom and set Italy down on the stool to get the water started.

Italy scratched his head. “I thought I did.” He lolled a little as he thought back. “Honestly, after that first bottle, I don’t remember much.” 

Running the bathwater and getting Italy in, he left him to soak and clean up. He was mostly there enough to clean himself. “You get clean, I’ll go grab you some towels, after, we can tackle the bucket in the room and cleaning the floor from where you missed.”

Italy nodded, eyes sliding closed again. “Yes, Germany. Thank you.”

Germany smiled and left to get the towels. Going down the stairs went into the laundry room to grab the fresh ones from the dryer only to stop and notice a droplet of blood on the ground next to a broken shard of glass. He narrowed his eyes at it, wondering where it came from. Following it with his eyes he saw more blood going out the other door towards the basement exit. 

Italy must have come in from his way. He thought, logic winning the argument. He straightened and left, closing the door behind him. He’d have Italy help there too. 

A soft snoring gathered his attention next. He stood by the living room and crumped in a heap on his couch was Romano, a blanket half on his body and the other half on the floor. He jumped at seeing the blood on the Italian’s hand.

Must be where the blood came from. Did those two getting into a fight and Italy bust out a bottle? Questions for Italy when he was done bathing.

Dropping the towels off he took a quick note that Italy was okay and walked down to his office to do some work as Italy finished. He knew where to find him at this time of day. 

Least, that’s what he wanted to do until he saw his office in shambles. More broken glass was scattered about, his couches had rips and tears in them, and his computer was on the ground, no doubt broken to the point he’d have to get another. 

His telephone was off the hook, but no dial tone. He held it up to his ear and heard, breathing?

“Hello?”

“Germany?” Russia’s calm voice startled him. “Oh, how nice of you to pick up, the other one on the phone was very rude.” 

“The other one? How long have you been on the line?”

“You know, that Italian, Romano he calls himself? Called me last night, drunkenly slurred a lot of nasty words, said he would be right back.” Russia chuckled softly. “Put Latvia on the phone for most of the evening with strict orders to wake me when he got back on the phone. Estonia took over for the last half of the evening until I came back.”

Germany took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright, well, Romano is passed out on my couch, drunk. I will apologize on his behalf for keeping you and yours up for most of the night.” 

“Oh, no issue.” His voice grew deep. “But, I do have a grudge. No one says those things about Belarus and Ukraine like that, tell Spain that I may strangle his charge.” 

Well, that was new. Even Romano couldn’t be that stupid, could he? “Do I even want to know?”

“Nope!” Russia went right back to his happy voice. “That is for me to know and him to die about it, see you later Germany.”

The phone line died. With a sigh, he hung up and surveyed the rest of the damage. Books taken off his shelves, some figurines on the floor, thankfully not too broken that some super glue couldn’t help. He started the clean-up, trying to piece together what might have happened last night, and how the hell he didn’t wake up to it all. 

The questions he had were answered quite shortly into his clean up.

“Oi! Rotten potato head,” Romano shouted, startling the German. “Where the heck is my brother?”

Germany groaned. “Probably still in the bath, cleaning up.” 

“Heh, yeah. Last night was wild.” He laughed with a short cough. “Man, he’s never been that wasted, actually felt like my brother for once.”

Standing, Germany looked over. “What did happen last night?”

Romano leaned against the doorway, his face also covered in a little bile and his hands still cut up pretty bad. “Right, right. You were out. So, get this, Spain throws a huge party and drag that lazy Fratello of mine to the wine cellar where Spain keeps his special wine, the old kind from when Grandpa was still around.”

“But Italy doesn’t get drunk off wine.”

He laughed. “Not normally, but when you grab the most fermented wine and slip a little, something, something into it he will. I surprised you didn’t know.” 

“What?” Germany crossed his arms as Romano shook his head, most likely still a little drunk.

“Man, Veneziano caught you in the laundry room, offered you something from a bottle, not knowing it was one of the drugged ones. You hit the floor faster than anyone I have ever seen. It was great.”

“And your hand?” He asked. Romano looked at it.

“Oh right, so after you hit the ground Italy Veneziano freaked, sobered up fast you know. Worried you’d be mad, I told him it was no big deal, you’d wake up eventually. Not like it can kill you. Man, I thought I was violent, he took the bottle and smashed it on the side of the dryer and went after me! I ran out of the basement, came back like, 30 minutes later to help him get you up to bed. He cleaned up the glass, but tried to go call Spain! The bastard was going to rat me out.”

“So, you tore up my office?”

Romano shook a finger. “No, no, Veneziano did. He picked up the phone, called someone else, insulted their entire family history, and then saw me, came after me with the bottle again. I managed to convince him to let it go and he grabbed a bucket and climbed into bed with you. I went to the couch, no way was I going to walk home after all that. Figured I could get some big brother punches in after cutting me up.” 

Germany blinked. “Then why did Russia say it was you on the phone.”

Romano waved off the question. “Ah, you know how old vodka brain is, can’t remember shit right. Though that little sister of his.” He whistled. 

With a heavy sigh, Germany felt his eye twitch. That line right there told him everything. “Alright then, well, how about you go sober up more, and then we can talk. I need to check on Italy.”

“Fine, but when is breakfast?” Germany groaned as Romano left the doorway to scout out for food. The brothers were alike in more than one way after all. 

“Italy?” Germany asked as he entered the bathroom. It was empty, towels hung up nice, and not a lot of water on the floor. He followed the sound of panicked breathing back to the bedroom. There on his hands and knees was Italy, cleaning up the vomit that missed the bucket. “Italy?” 

“Pe! Germany?!” He looked down to the floor with shame. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what happened last night, but I’ll clean it all.”

Germany waved it off. “No need Italy, after you clean that up, go back to bed. I’m going to punish the real culprit.” 

“Who?” Italy asked, confused. Germany only raised an eyebrow. 

“Your brother? The one who just lied to me about everything?”

Italy shot up. “Lovi? But, he wouldn’t do all this.” 

“Oh, Italy.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, it won’t be too harsh.” He patted the smaller man’s head. “Again, finish up and back to bed.”

Italy nodded and finished what he had started as Germany walked out and down to the first floor where he found Romano going through his kitchen.

“So, Italy was the one to do everything last night, eh?”

Romano jumped and turned. “Oh yeah, wasted as hell.” He was sweating.

Germany removed his belt slowly and deliberately so Romano could see. “You see Romano, I think you believe me stupid and that is a grave mistake to make.” He walked over. “See, mistake one was getting Italy wasted, Italy doesn’t get drunk, especially not on wine. The second mistake was staying here where I could catch you, the third was screwing up my office where I do have a nanny camera and where Russia sat patiently on the phone. Russia does not need to lie and you do have a deeper voice than your brother, there is no way he would mistake him for you. He would like your head on a spike for your comments on his sisters, but I’m sure I could convince him you are punished enough.”

Romano had backed up against the counter, fear in his eyes. “What, what are you going to do?”

Germany pursed his lips. “Well first, I’m going to drag you to the living room where I can properly punish you, then I am going to take my belt and spank you until the truth comes out, and I want the full truth, not some half-baked lie.” 

Quickly he grabbed Romano by the arm and dragged him into the other room, pulling the younger nation over his lap as he parked himself on the couch. “Firstly, let’s start with how and why you got Italy drunk.” He brought down the belt with an almighty crack.

“I was telling the truth! It’s really old wine and Grandpa used to put some old-timey muscle relaxants in it to loosen himself and his escorts up.” He whimpered as more blows came down on his backside. “I must put a little more in.”

“Why?” He brought it down again, the belt licking the underside of his cheeks.

“Spain was throwing a party and Veneziano wasn’t participating. I wanted him to loosen up!”

“Romano, you know your brother doesn’t get drunk he hates the feeling. He gets buzzed and stops. You put himself and you in danger.” Romano reached his hand back to cover his smarting backside, prompting Germany to grab it and pin it to the small of his back. “Now the hand, since you reminded me. What happened in the laundry room?”

“You came downstairs and he offered you the bottle! You wouldn’t take it, so he forced it, you hit the ground, breaking the bottle. As Veneziano freaked out and carried you up the stairs I tried to clean it up and got cut He winced and sobbed. I couldn’t get it all up, so I went inside to find something, a broom, and saw your office. I’m sorry!”

“Not yet,” Germany replied gruffly bring down the belt again and again. “Keep going.” 

“The broken bottle cut me bad, I saw something in the office, but I tripped on the rug. The couch tore as I was still holding the glass bits in my hand. I grabbed the phone, but accidentally hit the computer and it fell over.” 

“And the phone call to Russia?”

Romano bucked and kicked with a wail. “I misdialed, thought Spain was fucking with me. So I insulted him, I really didn’t know until he started that creepy chanting shit. I freaked out and left him on the line.” 

Germany rolled his eyes. “Alright, well that accounts for most things but we still have a ways to go.” He kept spanking, bringing the belt down over and over until all that was left in Romano was broken Italian that sounded sincere enough. Surely, once it was all over, he hung there, too sore and limp to move.

“Up we go.” Germany said as he hooked his hands under Romano’s arms. “Come on, to the bathroom to clean up your hand, then you little one are going to help me clean my office.”

Romano sniffled and nodded quietly. In the bathroom, he was sat on the counter and Germany took his time, getting all the glass out of the slowly healing wounds. Once there were no longer blocked, his hands began to heal much faster. Bandaging them up he looked up and saw the large tears in Romano’s eyes.

“Come now, what’s with the tears, that couldn’t have been any worse than Spain would do you as a young one.” 

Romano sniffed. “Spain never spanked me. He only ever lectured me.”

Ah, a lot of things made sense now. “I see, well, from now on I think I will take charge in dealing with you, I do the same to your brother.” 

Romano jolted and hissed as the movement hurt his back end. “No, please, not like that.” Germany raised an eyebrow and got in close. 

“Don’t deserve it then.” Finishing up with the bandages he helped him off the counter. “Now, will you behave?”

“Yes sir.” He nodded.

“Will you do as I asked?” 

“Yes.”

“Good.” He pet the other’s head. “Into the office, if we finish before lunch, I’ll order us all something. Okay?”

Romano nodded. “Does Veneziano know about all of this?”

“He knows you are responsible, but you know how he is, he still loves you. Come.” He turned and left the bathroom for his office, Romano not far behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on some heavy-duty pain killers for this re-write. (Shoulder pain sucks after having strep and a cold.) Forgive if it sounds or looks funny.


	2. Spain and S. Italy

Story Two: Spain and S. Italy

Request Chapter

Spain was usually a pretty laid back guy, he prided himself on not losing his temper, and be the best kind guy he could be. He was nice to everyone and sometimes let his naïve nature get the best of him. 

He had spent years being this kind of guy and most people accepted it and was pretty, generally, very nice to him back. Hungary and Italy liked to help him out once in a while, and some of the time, he, France, and Prussia would all gather and do something worthwhile.

Then again, those nights usually ended in England or Germany bailing them out of problem or jail. So, the trio only got together on nights they really wanted to be little shits.

His wine cellar helped quite a bit.

Still, despite his lax and helpful nature, the one person he spent years trying to get through to was Romano. His charge was rude, spiteful, and was secretly a little needy. After a while, he just let Romano do as he pleased. It was easier to let his petty and mild insult slid off his back rather than try to do something about it.

Though, people had begged him to intervene, like Germany. He usually gave a half-baked excuse on why he couldn’t, and sooner than later people would get wise to the fact that Spain just couldn’t control the little whelp.

However, today was different. 

Romano had been getting on his last nerve, getting his brother wasted on his wine, breaking bottles, and being rude to his staff.

But today, as Spain tended to his gardens, Romano was quiet and was helping out bring in some crops to sell and give to those in need. He was pretty impressed, hopefully he could ask Germany what he did that made the Italian so complacent. He looked up over some vines to see Romano hunched over a cart that was slowly filling with tomatoes.

“Hey, Roma, you hungry?” He called. Romano stiffened and shook his head.

“Nah, Spain, I’m good. How about you go on out and get something. I may be hungry later.”

Spain nodded. “Sure, sounds like a good idea. Hey, when you get done with that cart, just put it by the others, and we can take that one to the charity stands on the edge of town.”

“Sure, sounds great.”

Spain smiled and walked away to wash up and head out. Romano, however, wasn’t being any kind of charitable. He smiled with glee as he poked another hole into the tomato he was holding, squeezing the innards out and slowly refilling it back up bugs that he kept in a jar next to his knee. 

“This should teach that bastard to order me around like I’m some sort of servant. That’s what he had those real servants for.” He dropped the tomato into the cart and pulled another off the vine, repeating the process. “At this rate, the entire crop should be ruined, hopefully it should finally teach him not to treat me like a slave.”

He worked through the mid-afternoon before getting bored and out of bugs. He wiped his hands on his pants and turned to go freshen up for lunch, calling for a maid to grab the cart and drag it over with the others.

“Mister Espania!” Spain looked up to see a maid of his running towards him, her long dress hiked up over her knees so she could hurry. “Mister Espania, oh it’s terrible!”

“Maria, Maria,” Spain said, calming her which a gentle touch to her shoulders. “Calm down, what’s wrong?”

Taking on a deep breath she pointed back to the gardens. “Anita and I were helping being in the carts of produce, and oh, you just have to see for yourself.” She led Spain to where they kept the carts for the charity stands. Anita and another staff member Rodolfo were picking through the tomatoes on the cart. 

“Are those…” He trailed off as Anita squeezed one and about 5 or so ants came crawling out. Maria nodded. 

“Yes sir, all of them are like this, we had to save the other two carts, as bugs were beginning to crawl over there.” She turned to Anita. “And we found this in the fields.” Anita held up an empty jar. 

Spain saw the jar and felt his blood boil. “Was this by the western fields?” They all nodded. With a heavy sigh, he said. “Alright, throw out this cart, it’s too late for this one, check on the others and find one more that isn’t contaminated, we will give those to the charity stands.” 

“Yes, Mister Espania.” They dutifully left, leaving Spain to consider his next move. It had to be Romano, the little idiot. He grabbed one of the contaminated fruits from the cart and walked back inside to find his charge. 

“Romano Lovino Vargas!” Spain shouted as he spotted Romano exiting the bathroom. Romano jumped and tried to rush back into the bathroom where surely the lock would protect him. However, quick as a whip Spain reached him and grabbed him by the upper arm.

“Did you do this?” He asked as he squeezed the tomato in his hand, a few ants coming out and dropping to the floor. 

Romano tried to yank his arm out of Spain’s iron grip but couldn’t quite seem to do so. Finally, he relented. “Well, yeah, it’s what you get for asking me to do shit around this house. I’m not one of your servants. I told you that when I was a kid.”

“Oi.” Spain rolled his eyes and shook his head. “So let me get this straight, because I asked you to help me out, and you agreed, you decided to do this? Hmm?” He threw the ruined tomato to the trash bin nearby. “You know that cart was specifically for the charity stands, for my people that are low on luck and money. Do you have any idea of how that would look for me?”

“Feh, as if I care. They aren’t mine.”

Spain glared. “Right, of course, since when have you cared for your nation? Last time I checked, it was Feliciano that was doing all the charity work, while you laze about all day.” 

Romano tried to get out of Spain’s grip again, his temper flaring. “Stop comparing me to that no good brat of a brother!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t make it so easy!” Spain tightened his grip and dragged the other out to his shed. “You have been very travieso, Romano, and I plan on getting rid of that once and for all.”

Romano felt his cheeks color. He hated it when Spain called him that. “Don’t call me that you jerk.”

“I have tried to be very patient and understanding to you Romano.” Spain continued, ignoring the demand. “All I wanted when I took you in was a hardworking, respectful child. What did I get instead, a brat, a snotty little child? You are lucky that Austria didn’t get you.” He would have done to you what he did to Feliciano. He reached the shed and found what he was looking for, a thin little whip of wood, a good switch by all accounts. “Now, bend over the side of the bench, ignore me and I’ll take down your trousers.” 

“Hell no!” Romano barked until he was roughly shoved over the bench and felt his pants get yanked down. 

“I warned you.” Quickly, Spain brought the switch down as Romano struggled to stay in one spot. “I will drive this need to be petty out of your stubborn, hard head if it’s that last thing I do!” His hand went to the back of Romano’s neck and held him in place, pressing down slightly to keep him from moving.

Romano tried to struggle back, tried to buck up and move, to shout and scream in both Italian and Spanish, anything to get Spain to stop, but he didn’t. The little switch hurt so much more on his brief covered backside, though he just thanked his lucky stars that Spain didn’t take down his underwear. 

With one more little whip, he stopped, holding the switch in the air. “Now, are you going to listen?”

Romano nodded and sobbed, his tears pooling at his chin. “Yes, Spain, I’ll listen!” Jeez, this hurt worse than Germany’s belt!

“Good, cause we have 10 more for the cart. After, you and I will personally take the non-ruined carts and you will be the most behaved, I have no qualms about doing this in front of my people. Got it?”

Romano nodded rapidly. “Yes sir, I’ll behave.” 

“Good.” Spain brought the switch down again, getting both cheeks a fair amount for the last 10 swats. Finally, when it was all said and done Spain threw the switch away and sighed, pulling back to observe his handy work. “There, I think we are done.”

Romano slowly stood, yanking his pants back up, hissing as it scrapped along his sore and throbbing backside. He turned, his eyes red-rimmed and looking quite pitiful. Spain smiled and took pity on his, opening his arms.

“Come here little one. I think you need a hug.” Romano reluctantly took the hug, but Spain could sense he wanted this. He carded a hand through the other’s hair. “There we go, let it out.” Romano sobbed into his shirt, his fingers coiling tightly into the material.

“There’s my Romano, the good boy I know you are.” Planting a kiss to his charges forehead he sat, letting Romano sit in his lap and get it all out. Maybe the charity stands could wait until tomorrow. 


	3. Rome and France

Baby-sitter Rome

Warning and stuff in the first chapter. This chapter was requested by fanfictionfever. Sorry it took forever. I have no excuse. OTL

*********************************HylianHeroine2********************************

Britannia was a proud woman. Rougher than Germania she was a powerful nation, and she had to be, she had four boys to care for. Her babies were growing up and sadly, she had to miss even more of their lives as she had a war to fight. After suiting up and kissing her children on the head she gathered up her youngest and set off to find the only man she trusted with her children. Rome.

Rome however was enjoying his daily supply of women and wine. When he saw Britannia barge in he jumped and shooed all his escorts out. “What can I do for you my dear?” He asked as he grabbed her hand and kissed it gently.

Britannia rolled her eyes and replied. “You know very well why I’m here Rome. You promised to watch Arthur while I’m at war.

“Ah, yes, of course!” Rome replied as he sheepishly grinned. “Ah, where is the little tyke?”

“He should be with Francis. Just make sure he doesn’t get in any wars and nobody picks on him. He is sensitive enough with his brothers picking on him all the time.” Britannia said as she grabbed Rome by his armor and dented the metal. “If I come home to a sad, weeping Arthur I swear I will see to it that your grandsons spend a week with Germania.”

“Now woman, don’t go threating my little Feli and Roma.” Rome challenged back. “They are too cute to be around such barbarians!”

“Then don’t screw up.” She replied as she started off. “Oh and Rome, if you do a good job with taking care of my son, I will make those escorts seem like innocent virgins.” She winked and walked away.

“What a lady.” Rome thought. He grabbed his regular armor and left his home. Most of the time he only left for wine, women, or war, now he had to babysit. Lovely. Coming upon the watering hole that Britannia loved to bathe herself and her children. The water was said to bring power and health to anyone who bathed in it. No wonder she loved to bathe there. There he came upon the sight of Francis spanking a little Arthur briskly. Rome was startled but soon the panic set in. If Britannia found out, he would be a dead man.

“Francis! What is the world are you doing!?” Rome barked loudly as he grabbed Arthur from Francis’s grip.

“I’m spanking this little brat! My petit frère wiped mud on my new tunic!” Francis said as he stood to show the mud stain on the light blue tunic. Observing Arthurs hands Rome saw mud on the little mitts as well.

“Still, Arthur is just a little boy. You shouldn’t spank someone so small.”

“You’re just worried Britannia will cut your dick off. Not that I blame you.” Francis retorted looking down.

Rome set Arthur down and sat down next to Francis. “Now, while that is true, it’s still not right to punish such a little one.”

“He’s nearly forty now!” Francis said. “You’re only saying that because he’s as short as Feliciano. Maybe I should spank him. He got paint on me last time.”

Now that sparked Rome’s ire. “Don’t you even talk about spanking little Feli!” He said as he pulled Francis over his lap and grabbed a switch down from the tree they were under. Pulling up Francis’s tunic he smacked the little bottom in front of him.

“Don’t threaten my cute grandson! He spilled that paint on accident, and besides, he’s going through some Renaissance.” Rome lectured as he continued to smack the French bottom.

“Yow!” Francis howled. He had forgotten how much his uncle’s hand hurt. He immediately regretted saying something about Feliciano. Worst part was Arthur was watching curiously from behind a small rock.

The assault on his bottom continued for some time and finally Francis began to bawl. “I’m sorry! I won’t threaten Feliciano anymore!”

“No you won’t!” Rome said as he picked up the switch and with the zztt sound in the air, the thin wood left a long line on Francis’s red cheeks. Zztt, zztt,zztt! The switch fell multiple times before landing a finishing blow that made Francis nearly leap of the Roman lap. He lay there crying for a little bit. Rome pulled him close and cuddled him.

“Now, what have we learned?”

“N-not to be rude and threaten people.”

“Good boy.” Rome said as he put Francis down on the ground. Then he stood and smiled. “Come boys. I still have a few months of babysitting.” He said as he started toward the nearest village.

Arthur shuffled forward. “That looked like it hurt.”

“It did.” Francis said as he gingerly rubbed his backside.

“If I ever have any kids, I might hafta spank them to get them to listen.” Arthur said as he pulled his cloak over his head.

Francis rolled his eyes. He worried for the colony Arthur would raise.


	4. Ukraine and Russia

Listen To You Big Sister

A Hetalia fanfiction By HylianHeroine2

(I am so late to come back to the game guys, I am so sorry.)

*************************HylianHeroine2*********************

Sofia sighed as she looked out the window to her kitchen. Natalia had just called saying that their brother was in one of his moods again. He had a tendency to forget who he was and curl up inside of himself, isolating himself from his boss, other nations, from his sisters, even from his subordinates.

It was never good when he did.

Should she break orders to avoid Ivan like her boss said, or should she go and help her little brother like she should? Setting down the paring knife she held in her hand, she turned to grab her coat. A little visit shouldn’t be too bad…right?

As per usual it took very little time to travel to Russia’s border and to his home. Belarus was sitting on the porch swing.

“Natalia, my baby sister.” Sofia smiled as she greeted her sister.

“Ah, Sofia, I didn’t actually expect you to show up.” Natalia replied as she looked up. Her left eye was swollen and discolored. Sofia’s smile dropped, Ivan never liked hitting anyone and when he did it was usually on accident, be he never dared hit his sisters, especially Natalia, she was his little sister and no matter how annoying she got, he took it in stride and kept calm.

“Did Ivan do this to you?” Sofia asked as she walked up to the porch and took her sisters face in her hands.

“Not entirely, he threw a candle stick at Ravis who dodged it, and it hit me in the face.” Natalia said, her eyes downcast. Sofia knit her eyebrows together in worry, Natalia was never one to get this upset over an injury.

Sofia pursed her lips and nodded. “I understand. He’s in his office right now right?”

Natalia nodded. “Be careful Sofia, he’s even worse this time.”

“I’ll be careful, don’t you worry little sister.” Sofia said over her shoulder as she went to the front door and opened it. Making her way down the front hall she noted how quiet it was.

 _“The Baltics must be out.”_ She thought to herself as she made her way to Ivan’s office. Since no one but him was allowed in there, he usually went to have his heavy drinking sessions and subsequent madness streaks in there.

Approaching the door she knocked softly. “Ivan? May I come in?”

No answer.

She jiggled the handle and the door opened for her. “Ivan?” She asked as she stepped inside. Ivan’s high backed chair was facing his fire place, the lone window blocked by a long black curtain, keeping out any sunlight.

“Go away Sofia.” Ivan’s soft voice drifted from the chair. Sofia closed the door behind her and locked it.

“Ivan, Natalia tells me you are feeling depressed.” Sofia started to make her way across the room but stopped at his desk when he spoke again.

“I said to go away. Do not make me say it again.” Ivan replied, his voice dropping a few octaves to scare his big sister. “Or do I need to collect that money you owe me and tell your boss that you’re here?”

Sofia felt her eyes narrow. Normally his threats of telling her boss that she was disobeying orders would send her running but not today, he hurt Natalia with his anger and now he was going to feel hers.

Slamming her hand down on the desk she barked at him. “Russia, stand up and face me!”

She didn’t like using his country name when talking to him, but it certainly got his attention. The chair scooted back as he stood, she could barely see the top of his head over the back of the chair. Ivan pushed it to the side as he turned to face his sister.

Sofia noted that his lilac eyes were bloodshot, which either meant that he had been drinking heavily or crying, but at this point she thought it was a mixture of both. Ivan’s long strides got him in her face in a heartbeat. Towering over his big sister Sofia tried to keep herself calm.

“I said to leave Ukraine, what part of that don’t you understand?!” He yelled as he slammed his own hand onto the desk, the wood creaking in defense.

“I do not like you threating me with calling my boss Russia, not one bit!” Sofia said as she put her hands on her hips. “Its about time that you start showing me the respect I deserve as your big sister.”

Ivan leaned down and whispered. “Maybe when you win a war without my help is when I will respect you.”

“I gained my independence without your help didn’t I?” Sofia replied. “All you did was cry and hide behind China.”

Ivan’s face screwed up into a snarl and before Sofia could react he slapped her. Hard. She stared at him as his own face started to piece together what he had done.

“Sofia, I am so-” Ivan started.

“Ivan Braginski, that is the last straw.” Sofia said as she started to roll up her sleeves. Ivan had always been bigger and stronger than her, but right now she was so mad that he had no chance of overpowering her. She grasped his wrist and with a mighty tug she pulled him over the desk, he grunted as his stomach hit the wood.

“How dare you hit me!?” She hollered as she brought her hand down onto his clothed backside. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing his coat, but his pants were pretty thick. Still, he got the message.

“Sofia, it hurts!” Ivan yelped as she brought her hand down again.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you go slapping me and throwing a candle stick at Natalia!” Sofia lectured as she continued to spank her little brother. Her hand was beginning to get sore on how hard she was smacking him, and yet, while he was yelling out he still wasn’t as repentant as she’d like.

Stopping her assault on his tender backside Sofia said. “Ivan, go get your hairbrush.”

Ivan stood quickly. “No, Sofia, not the brush!” His hands went to cover his backside instantly. “Please, no!”

“No Ivan!” Sofia started. “If you don’t go right now, I will retrieve it and I will take down your pants when I return.”

“But!” Ivan started. He bit his lip at her withering look but couldn’t bring himself to move, even though his brain was screaming it at him.

“Alright Ivan, I will go.” Sofia started to walk off.

“Sofia!” Ivan whimpered. “Please.”

“Oh and Ivan, if you leave this room, I’ll get the razor strop that I used to use.” Sofia said as she left the room and shut the door behind her.

Thankfully Ivan had done as he was told when Sofia returned, but she still had to follow through with the punishment. She approached the desk and Ivan bent back over it.

Sofia smiled softly. _“There’s a good boy Ivan.”_ She thought. Grabbing the hem of his pants she brought them down to his knees and flipped up his shirt tails. “Since you did as you were told I’ll leave your underwear up.”

“Sofia.” Ivan quickly whimpered into the desk. Sofia took a moment to rub his back before rearing back and popping his squarely in the backside. Ivan jumped at the hit and kicked his feet a little.

 _“Still a child at heart.”_ Sofia thought as she continued to spank him. As time went on Ivan’s kicks started to get more frequent and his whimpers started to become cries.

“Sofia! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you or Natalia!” Ivan cried out loudly as he gripped the edge of the desk and cried openly. Sofia gave one last smack to his red backside and pulled him up and into a hug. He gripped her hard and cried into her shoulder.

“There, there Ivan, big sister is here.” Sofia sank to the floor, Ivan following her. He buried his face into her chest and continued to cry. Sofia softly pet his head and let him cry.

“Ivan, what is the matter?” She asked finally after a few minutes. “Why are you upset?”

Ivan looked up at her, his face a mess. “I don’t know, I just miss you so much, and so much is going on right now.”

Sofia sighed softly. “I know, you’re a great nation, but even nations need a rest every now and again. Don’t forget that while I can’t see you that often, we can still talk. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need to talk.”

“I will apologize to Natalia.” Ivan murmured.

Sofia smiled. “Good, I think that is best.” She kissed the top of his head as she helped him off the floor.


	5. Russia and Amercia

Pranks A Lot

A Hetalia Fanfiction by HylainHeroine2

I have absolute no idea who requested this, but you were a genius and I love you for this idea.

Warning and disclaimer in the first chapter.

Enjoy!

*******HylianHeroine2******

It was hard to get through to the American Nation, only Arthur had been willing and capable of doing so. Alfred was so high strung and hyperactive that he needed someone almost constantly reigning him back in after doing something stupid or saying something that he shouldn’t have.

But lately Arthur had been feeling ill. The English Nation had taken a few weeks off to recover, and during that time Alfred had been all over everyone’s nerves, just at the last world meeting he had glued Yao to his chair making him rip the clothes he had been wearing just to leave the room and it didn’t stop there. As the days went on Alfred’s pranks got worse and worse.

Ludwig let out a frustrated growl as he slammed his phone down, another prank call from Alfred. Feliciano and Kiku looked at each other in worry.

“What are we to do with him!?” Ludwig hollered. Kiku started to speak when a knock came from the door behind them.

“Knock knock!” A voice called from the door. It opened to reveal Ivan.

“Ludwig, did you forget our meeting today?” He asked sweetly. “I had been waiting for you for almost twenty minutes.”

Ludwig sighed. “No, I am sorry Ivan, its just…” He trailed off. “Alfred had me on the phone for the entire time for a prank.”

“Oh. I see.” Ivan said as he joined the former axis powers at the meeting table. “Why has no one contacted Arthur?”

“Arthur-kun is sick.” Kiku answered. “While he has been resting, Alfred has been on a rampage.”

“Vee, and he is too strong for any of us to even consider doing anything ourselves.” Feliciano continued on.

“Yes, he only respects Arthur as the man is his father figure.” Ludwig said. “All we can do is hope he feels better soon and takes Alfred in hand.”

“I can do it!” Ivan happily said.

The other three looked up in shock. “What?”

“I’ll bring him down to earth for you guys.” Ivan said as he stood. “After all, he has done his fair share to me as well. “

“Wha-what did he do to you?” Kiku asked. No one would dare to prank the Russian nation without serious balls ….and stupidity.

Ivan smiled again. “Let’s just say I don’t enjoy squid that much anymore.”

He turned and left. “Don’t worry Ludwig, we will still have our meeting later today after I deal with Alfred.” He called from down the hall.

Ludwig could only hold his head in his hands. Was he seriously the only normal nation anymore? Alfred liked to prank people, and Ivan liked to beat the living hell out of anyone that crossed him. He silently prayed for Alfred before going back to the meeting with Kiku and Felicano.

Meanwhile, over in America, Alfred has giggling to himself as he rigged a paint balloon bomb to explode all over the Eiffel Tower.

“Man, Francis is going to be pissed!” He said aloud. “It’s a good thing Arthur is sick, or I’d have my ass handed to me by now.”

“Alfred!” A sing-song voice called as his doorbell rang. “Can I come in?”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Why would Ivan be at his door?” His eyes lit up as he ran to the door and opened it.

“Ivan, my man, you here to help me prank Francis?” Alfred laughed as he leaned against the doorway, unaware of Ivan’s towering presence getting closer. “Or maybe we should get Elizaveta, that stick in the mud tried lecturing me last time for what I did to Yao.”

Ivan continued to smile as his massive hand grabbed Alfred’s and pulled him in close. Alfred immediately stopped laughing and looked up. “No, no malen'kiy mal'chik, I do not think I am going to help you prank anyone….are you forgetting the squids?”

Alfred bit his lip as he tried to pull for the Russian man. “Aww, come on Ivan, it was funny.”

“Not for my bathtub it wasn’t.” Ivan replied. “Since our English ally is sick, I thought I would do him the immense favor of putting you in your place and learning to respect your elders.”

“No, no! I won’t let you!” Alfred hollered as he started to jerk his arm, but Ivan kept his iron grip on his arm and pulled him up over his shoulder.

“Put me down you brute!” Alfred screamed as he beat the Russians back. “I’ll tell Arthur on you, and he’ll get you!”

“Don’t go running to daddy to protect you.” Ivan said as he made his way into the house, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his boot. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a little mu’dak, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“It was all just harmless fun!” Alfred thrashed about over Ivan’s shoulder, his glasses flying off his face and clattering on the ground. “AH! My glasses!”

Ivan stopped, turned and gently picked them up.

“Ivan?” Alfred questioned tentatively.

“You still need to be able to see after I spank the living daylights out of you.” Ivan giggled as he threw Alfred on his bed before taking a seat himself. Alfred scrambled trying to get off the bed before Ivan could grab him, but alas, the Russian was took quick, and with one tug Alfred was lying face down, staring at Ivan’s heavy brown boots.

“Please, Ivan, no one but Arthur has ever spanked me.” Alfred whimpered. He didn’t feel brave like normal, mostly because no one had been able to take his hits and kicks like Ivan did. He felt terrified, even more so of the Russian man than he did during the Cold War.

Ivan gave a low chuckle. “Well, I guess it will be Arthur and myself now.” His fingers hooked the back of his pants and pulled them down, the lack of underwear made Ivan raise an eyebrow.

“You go without undergarments?”

Alfred blushed. “It was hot in the hangar earlier.”

“Ah, oh okay.” Ivan shrugged. Whatever made him feel better. With that Ivan raised his hand high and brought it down hard, Alfred’s tanned flash almost immediately pinking.

“Yeow!” Alfred screeched as he bucked in Ivan’s lap. “Damn dude, you hit hard!”

“Da!” Ivan said. “And plenty more where that came from.” He popped Alfred again, earning a similar response to earlier.

Ivan set to a rhythm that he tapped onto the American backside before him, Alfred wiggled and bucked with each smack. He grit his teeth and tried to keep from crying.

“This bastard is tapping out the beat of Rasputin on my ass!” Alfred thought to himself before he gasped at a particularly hard swat on his sit spot.

“Alright Ivan, I won’t prank anyone anymore!” He said, hoping to pacify the large man above him.

Ivan laughed. “Come now Amerika, you really think I’d let you off the hook so easy? I still have squid marks on my privates from your little joke.”

“I was just trying to have a little fun while Arthur was sick, he never lets me have any fun!” Alfred hollered.

“I wonder why.” Ivan murmured slightly. He continued to spank Alfred, and by now this pink flesh was looking a bit redder, and he could see the skin starting to tighten as the prey tried hopelessly to alleviate the sting.

“Tell me you’ll stop until Arthur gets better!” Ivan said smacking him in rapid sucession.

“I’ll stop until he gets better!” Alfred replied quickly.

“And that’s you’ll tell him everything you’ve done.”

“I’ll tell him I swear! I swear!” His wiggling was turning into full bucking and kicking.

“And say the Cossack dance is better than line dancing.” Ivan threw in a little something to make himself smile.

“Fuck off Ivan, that has nothing to do with this!” Alfred wailed. Tears slipping down his face, he gripped Ivan’s leg with his free arm and cried openly. At this point he’d take anyone’s comfort, even Ivan’s; if he was willing to give it.

“Alright Alfred.” Ivan sighed, his fun ruined, he could have continued, his arm wasn’t anywhere sore. But, nevertheless he helped Alfred to his feet and opened his arms, in which Alfred took the invitation.

After a few moments Ivan reached into his pocket and gave Alfred his glasses back. “Now, I must take my leave.” He stood leaving Alfred to pull up his pants.

Ivan headed to the door. “And if I find out you didn’t do as I said, I will be back…with britches.”

“No!” Alfred said as he stood to cover his backside. I promise, I’ll tell Arthur and I’ll stop pranking everyone.

Ivan looked over his shoulder and gave a small smile. “Khorosho!” With that he left the room and Alfred could hear him go back out the front door.

“Ugh.” Alfred groaned. His ass was going to be so sore for the next few days. “Not to self, don’t prank Ivan anymore.” He said aloud to the empty room.


End file.
